


Human

by ClockWorkSymmetry



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 13:07:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4707080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockWorkSymmetry/pseuds/ClockWorkSymmetry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke is self-conscious because she isn't pretty.</p>
<p>Anders is good at helping with that.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Fluff, prettiness, cuteness, mild smut. Hope you like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human

A shuddering gasp leaves her throat, and she keeps her eyes shut, hands gripping uselessly at air, wanting to tug, touch, twine and tangle, but she remains still otherwise, ignoring her urge, and focusing on sensation.

Soft breaths; gentle flutters down her stomach, shifting heat, hot then cold, hot then cold, and Hawke can barely stand it. Her toes curl, and she feels her lip twist into a tight line, biting her lower, fists clenching. It’s quiet for a moment, and she feels him watching her. Staring.

Her eyes open slowly, and she looks to the side, her cheeks flushing as she is splayed naked before him, he still fully clothed. “Hawke…” Her eyes flicker up to him, and his smile is beatific. “You’re so beautiful.”

With him, she did feel beautiful.

Scars, wiry muscle, long and lean, small breasts, not caring about hair in the wrong places- it wasn’t something she found attractive about herself. Yet when Anders looked at her, it was as if he was staring into the sun for the first time. Almost blinded, the way those lines curled around his eyes when he smiled, his large hands always hesitant, always gentle, though they both knew she was far stronger than him. 

At night, though, when it was just them, she was no longer the warrior, hard yet kind, who was known to have killed dragons single-handedly, slaying ogres for fun (at least according to Varric), and he was no longer an overly zealous mage-maniac who insisted that they could do no wrong. 

No, that all fell away. And with him, she was glad of that. 

“Hold me.” He slowly pulled his fingers back, stilling the shifting heat and ice from those long digits, before he shifted his jacket off, feathers fluttering, then it was him, naked, before her. She didn’t need to look; she had him memorized. Her smile came then, soft and small, and her head raised for a kiss.

Short. Chaste.

His arms tangled about her as he climbed on, one leg pushing between her own, his knee pressing gently against her core. She couldn’t help but grind into it slowly, lifting her pelvis up and down, toes curling as she dragged against his muscled thigh. His lips met hers again, harder this time, tongues meeting, touching, tasting. 

Her hands curled to his hair, releasing the short pony, and watched blonde cascade around his long chin and angular features. He remained looking at her, one hand catching her cheek as she slowly blushed under his studying gaze. “Still so shy?”

“Every time feels like the first. You certainly have skill, Anders.” “Mages are special like that.”

She giggled softly, and under his gaze, she felt like a girl. The fact that his hair was longer than hers, that she was stronger, more built, broader of shoulder, far more scarred, and the one who protected him in battle didn’t matter. His long lashes fluttered against his cheeks as she leaned up, perching on her elbow as she kissed him sweetly, leaving little butterfly kisses along his jaw.

He sighed softly, content, hands tracing down her skin, rolling over each scar, leaning down to kiss those he could reach on her neck and shoulders. “I love you.” “I love you too.”

She could feel him pressed against her, hard and wanting, and she slowly eased up, letting him fall back onto his knees as she sat before him, slowly crawling into his lap, running her hands down his chest, kissing soft skin, even as she spread her thighs, straddling him. His hands trailed over her heat, cupping her before a finger pressed in, testing, then another, knowing where to touch, where to press. 

Her voice came in a wanton sigh, then a low groan as her hips slowly jerked into his hand, rocking back and forth, pressing her forehead to his shoulder. His free hand moved to her hip, clutching, nails digging into her skin as she whined softly, jerking her hips faster, until he stopped, and she was left hanging.

She turned up to pout at him, which he laughed softly at, kissing the offending expression, before easing himself inside.

Her arms locked around his neck as her thighs worked, sweat slowly trickling down between her breasts, which he was quick to catch on to, burying his face between them. She kept moving, her voice high and slowly becoming hoarse, riding faster to their finish.

When all was said and done, she collapsed next to him, their fingers locking, blankets being pulled over as she curled around him, and he around her, kisses not as desperate, not as angry any more. “Thank you for making me feel human, Hawke.”


End file.
